


in, then out

by harpydora



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Established Relationship, Nightmares, Other, Panic Attacks, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 06:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12206094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harpydora/pseuds/harpydora
Summary: Juno breathes in. Then out.





	in, then out

**Author's Note:**

> I'm blaming Sacalow for dragging me into this fandom and I'm also blaming him for this fic.
> 
> It's purely self-indulgent fluff, but our favorite trainwreck of a human being, Juno, deserves some fluff every once in a while.
> 
> No betas, we die like men!

Pounding. His heart pounding, his head pounding, someone pounding on the door. _Fuck,_ everything hurts and is loud and the only consolation he's got is the ticking clock and the bone-deep knowledge that, if he's going down, he's taking Miasma with him.

At a distance, he hears: "Juno. Juno!"

The sound of his name slices through the pain, cuts away the noise. His heart's still tripping over itself and his head still throbs, but it's a little more distant now. He hears his name again, and again. God, that's right, Nureyev's on the other side of the door, isn't he? Fuck. Just one more in the long line of people he's disappointed.

Something tugs at his arm, and his first instinct is to jerk away. But his reactions are slow and his balance is off and his face is slick with blood (God, his _eye_ ) and he pitches himself to one side and falls to the floor with a thump.

"Shh, Juno, it's just me." And it's still Nureyev's voice, but it's not on the other side of a door, it's here, right _here_ , right next to him and Juno groans because it means he's just going to take Nureyev out with him and—

Cool fingers stroke the back of his neck. "Breathe for me, darling," Nureyev says. Juno obeys because he can't find it in himself to do otherwise, not when—

Nureyev's words cut the thought off as Juno sucks in another breath. "It's all right. I'm here, we're in your apartment. Just breathe for me, sweetie. That's right. In… Then out. In… Then out."

Juno follows Nureyev's instructions, clinging to the sound of his voice like it's a life-line. Like it's the only thing he's got. It's not true, though; as he breathes through the fear and the desperation, he understands that one of Nureyev's hands rests on the back of his neck. Nureyev's other arm drapes loosely around him, a hold that Juno could break with little effort, if he so desired.

But he doesn't so desire. He's still shaking, his head still hurts, and his heart is still going about a hundred miles a minute, but he understands that Nureyev is beside him on the floor of his bedroom, that it's the bedframe digging into his back and not the solid metal door of what he thought would be his tomb.

Juno breathes in. Then out.

In.

Out.

As if sensing Juno drifting back to the here and now, Nureyev plants a soft kiss to Juno's temple. "There you are," he says like some sort of benediction.

"You keep coming back for me," Juno says slowly, having a difficult time wrapping his tongue around the words. Fuck. Will waking up from that nightmare ever get easier?

Nureyev huffs out a breath in what's probably a laugh. His fingers still, curling around the base of Juno's skull. It's the only hint that Juno's hit a nerve. When he speaks, his tone is light and teasing. "Yes, it seems I do. Though I appreciate it now that you don't actively wander off. It's easier to come back for you when you stay where I left you."

"That's… that's fair," Juno concedes. He rubs at his organic eye with the heel of his palm—he'd made the mistake of doing that to his cybernetic eye exactly once. Even though he could call up a HUD, his eye-socket still hurts from the memory of what happened. "What time is it?"

"Too late for dinner and too early for breakfast." Nureyev kisses his temple again. "The time when all good little goddesses of ancient civilizations should be in bed."

"This is _Hyperion City,_ Nureyev. Do you really think there's a time of day where you can't find something to eat that's so soaked in grease it barely qualifies as food?"

"Oh, no, I'm sure there are plenty of places to get something like that," Nureyev says, and Juno swears he can hear the smile on his voice. "But I thought we already established that I enjoy you alive, darling. Not dead in a ditch somewhere, strangled by your own late-night snack."

"I'm not—I'm not going back to bed."

Nureyev sighs. "We should at least get you off the floor, then. Come on, up you get!"

With a grace that still fascinates Juno, Nureyev hops to his feet, then offers Juno a hand. He still feels raw, vulnerable. It's tempting to bat the hand away and clamber to his feet under his own power just to prove he can. But there's no real point to it. Things tended to go demonstrably better when Juno let Nureyev pick up some of the slack. So he splits the difference by taking Nureyev's hand but making exaggerated pained noises the whole time.

"Really now, is that necessary?"

"Yeah. Medically necessary even. Didn't you get my doctor's note? It definitely prescribes making a huge deal out of every minor inconvenience. Loudly." He flashes what he hopes is a winsome grin in Nureyev's direction. When he doesn't even get an eyeroll in response, he shrugs. "Was worth a shot."

"Mm-hmm." Nureyev shakes his head, not unfondly. "And what, pray tell, would you like to eat at this ungodly hour that _doesn't_ involve four kilograms of mixed plant-animal-robotic lard?"


End file.
